• Bridge keepers and their secret life between dusk and dawn

    9 augustus 2019

    The life and times of bridge keepers at day seem rather cumberless and easy flowing. Not much more to worry about than the weather and silly cyclist wishing to climb a rising bridge. Real excitement arrives when a drunk skipper thinks he is in some Harry Potter adventure and another, much more magical world, is hiding itself as a bridge pillar.

    But all of this is just a mask to hide their actual and real life from us little people passing their cottages.

    In the centre of Dordrecht city (The Netherlands) an art project was started some time ago to make visible the well hidden secret life of bridge keepers. http://brugwachtershuisjes.nl/overbruggen-dordrecht/. Most of it really takes place after dusk.

    The story starts with the ”Draaibrug“, an antique swing bridge with large racks and pinions. It’s about a old myth why residents of the Dordrecht city are called sheep’s head.


    On the water side of the cottage one will find a large red button. When this button is pushed a man starts to tell the story. Unfortunately this is  in Dutch only. So here is a short translation :

    Long time ago a father and his son have a taste for fresh sheep stake. In those days when one wished to enter live stock in the city, one had to pay a tariff duty at the gates. But they much more favoured the idea of smuggling in the sheep.

    So after buying a sheep from a local farmer they dressed it up like a boy complete  with a cap to hide his sheepish expression. Pulling it on two paws in between them.

    Arriving at the gates, the gatekeeper stops them to ask them a few questions. The guard thinks the “boy” is much too fat, something which the father and the son had different ideas about. Also the fact that the boy has to be pulled along arouses suspicion.               

    In the end the sheep let its self be heard in his own sheepish manner and the guard pulls away the cap and calculates the tariff.

    De Engelenburgerbrug is already a different thing. It´s like a nightingale, when you hear it sing at day you think:”Is that all? What’s all the  fuzz about?”

    But when you hear it sing in the middle of the night, when all is silent and quiet, it’s song really shatters the glass and lifts you up to a different level.


    Quiet Plz! Do not disturb the silence!

    Made by: Laura Jooren & Mariëlle van Heeren ( https://dewereldoppapier.nl/ )

    Another song can be heard at the Boombrug, which is at entrance of the little marina next to the cold waters of the Merwede. During the day, when the sun enlightens all things big and small, it hides it’s colours.

    On the other site there is some information about the project. But this does not give  the innocent passerby any clue to what will happen after dusk.

    (made by Wouter Sieuwerts http://woutersieuwerts.nl/)

    (captures are a life report of the experiences)

    Things get even more bizarre at the Riedijksbrug, also a bridge  between a little harbour and the dark waters of the Merwede.During the day one might think:”Oh yes, of course, just some other artsy fartsy funny named object.“


    But when the sun drops under the horizon, the true nature of PS9 Blub becomes visible.

    Made by Jolande Vermeulen & Donie Dubbeldam & Henk Bax (https://www.jolandevermeulen.nl/kunstwerken/285915960_Vermeulen%26Dubbeldam.html )

    The king of all is without any doubt bridge keeper Teus.

    Bridge keeper Teus has his own facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/category/Visual-Arts/Brugwachter-Teus-492983474436715/

    Teus truly lives adventure to the next level.

    Having his birthday party in his cottage with a cake and a real stiff drink.

    Making himself ready for the beach. Putting a nice tan on.

    Then, one day he went away for the holidays. Leaving everyone clueless to his whereabouts.

    After a long time, with search parties and all the blue alarms. Notes on streetlight poles:”Missing! Have you seen this man. The children are inconsolable.” 

    He just came back, with a girlfriend.


    He then had a short but very intensive relation with his girlfriend. You can find all the tasty little details on his facebook page. Here he is awaiting his love for supper.

    Unfortunately, with Christmas, as always, stuff went ugly. A friend of his girlfriend picked a fight. Things got out of hand and within no-time his relation was over, leaving him with the soup and despair.


    Not long after this tumultuous break down. A young dog filled up the immense empty space. But as everyone knows, dogs are nice, but not as nice as cats and they can in no way replace a girlfriend.


    So when spring arrived, Bridge keeper Teus made an awful decision: he left his cottage for the city of Den Bosch, to make a new start in live.

    We still mourn this dreadful turn. (  https://www.ad.nl/dordrecht/brugwachter-teus-zegt-dordrecht-vaarwel~a4d8bc4a/  )

    The new occupant of the cottage has an impossible challenge: to come even close to the immense heights bridge keeper Teus reached. But she bravely  tries.

    Het Verleden Verkleurt (The past discolours) by Christine Slurink

    Advised listening: Klaus Schulze - Kontinuum


    Cheers, CatweazleMagic

    Little note for visitors who are not aquainted with the dutch language: If you are  interested in my art, please click on the union jack in the upper left corner, or follow thins link.

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  • About trees and street art

    5 mei 2018

    Heaven cannot be reached anymore

    Staiway to heaven
















































    The stairway to heaven has been demolished on orders of city council. The surrounding trees have been cut off and their trunks and roots have been excavated and destroyed.

    Nothing remembers anymore to their once existence.

    OPengebroken straat


    All the trees in the museum street were also cut off. But this resulted in an artistic action:




    In the museum street in Dordrecht (The Netherlands) have, due to a planned new pavement, all the trees been cut off on a average height of 120 cm. later on, during the repaving, shall the remaining stumps and roots be excavated.

    Saskia Meesters and Frans van Lent, artists and residents of this neighbourhood took the initiative to, without permission nor financial support, use the amputee tree trunks as pedestals for temporary works of art, statements, and visual pronunciations.

    There are 14 tree trunks and they found as much artists to collaborate in this project.

    All the works will  be removed before the expected start of the repaving on the 22th of April.



    Frans van Lent



    No. 14 Frans van Lent


    Ton van Dalen



    No. 13 Ton van Dalen


    Fransje Diekman


    No. 12 Fransje Diekman


    Manuela Porceddu


    manuela Perceddu detail


    No. 11 Manuela Porceddu


    Saskia Meesters



    Saskia Meesters 2


    No. 10 Saskia Meesters            Translation of the text on the red board: “Contributor to the statistics”


    Kitty van der Veer


    Kitty van  der Veer 2


    No. 9 Kitty van der Veer


    Diana van Hal


    Diana van Hal 2


    No.8  Diana van Hal


    Theun okkerse


    No. 7 Theun okkerse


    Theun okkerse


    Translation: If, here, then, this.


    To Kraayeveld 2


    Translation: Then, there, this.


    Ton Kraayeveld 3


    Translation: Than, now.


    Ton Kraayeveld 4


    Translation: If, here.


    Ton Kraayeveld 5


    No. 6 Ton Kraayeveld    Translation:Now.


    Tobb & Dubio

    No. 5 Tobb & Dubio   Note of the author: the blog of Jegens en Tevens mentions a text written in Braille using paracetamol tablets. When I saw all this art, the rains already took their toll, leaving only a couple of messy white spots.


    Yvo van der Vat


    Yvo van  der Vat


    Yvo van der Vat 3


    No. 4 Ivo Kraaijeveld


    Maureen Bachaus & Maarten van den Berg


    No. 3  Maureen Bachaus & Maarten van den Berg

    Translation of the text on the top of the tree stump:“Hear how the oxygen stick, chopped off,  gasps for air.”

    Translation of the white board:


    Do you wish to be part of this art work?

    Follow up the instructions underneath:



    1. Read the poetry line on the top of the tree trunk.

    2. stand or sit on the tree trunk.

    3. Ask someone to capture this on video.

    4. Breath in heavily, gasp, long for air and persevere to this.

    5. Send the video to bachaus@outlook.com


    This green performance art work is an initiative of the visual artist­­­­­ Maureen Bachaus and poet Maarten van den Berg.



    Rowan van der Sterren


    Rowan van der Sterren 2



    No.2 Rowan van der Sterren.  Note of the author:  a week after this art work was revealed, someone broke away the piece of chalk to write:”Don’t think white, Don’t think black, But think with the colour of your heart.” Which is, as a matters of facts, quiet a famous pop song text of Frank Boeijen.



    Margreet Huisman


    Margreet Huisman 2


    No. 1 Margreet Huisman



    Writing this blog I  was reminded to what an old Palastinian man told Banksy when he was spraying stencils on the Israelian wall:”Your making this wall beautiful. We don’t want this wall to be beautiful. We hate this wall, go home.”  (Link)

    That is of course another way of looking at things.


    But then again, by making art on these trunks, the decapitated trees have become much more visible. While if nothing happened, these trees were forgotten very easily.


    When I was taking these photographs a young couple rounded the corner, entering the museum street. They didn’t spare the art on the stumps a second glance. But instead crossed the street, straight on their way to the art museum. They were clearly art lovers.



    Advised listening   Marmozets; Move ,Shake, Hide


    Cheers, CatweazleMagic

    Little note for visitors who are not aquainted with the dutch language: If you are  interested in my art, please click on the union jack in the upper left corner, or follow thins link.

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  • The improved Kinect handgrip.

    10 december 2017

    It all  started when I heard of the possibilities of 3d-scanning with the Kinect. So I bought myself a Kinect and started my experiments. But very quickly I found out these little devices are just a bit clumsy when handheld.

    So I took a glance at thingiverse, knowing when I meet these problems, I am not the first person in history bumping into this problem and also not the last one either.

    The first thingi I found on thingiverse was made by the illustrious Tony Buser, father of the spin scan and other inventions.

    But as a matter of facts I found his hammerhead kinect grip a bit on the rough side. I for instance do not very much cheer to his solutions with screws all that kind of stuff. Tony Buser is after all not a mechanical guy but a software specialist.

    Looking further on I found just many copies of this solution but very few original ideas which  looked like a real improvement or made me smile. So it was about time I created my own design.

    First I took a few measures of a cheap rc-remote control . Just as a guidance to form and dimensions. Because the handling of this thing was quiet reasonable.

    Building a model of it, following it’s shape looked a bit clumsy and rather rough: nice but not good enough. The flow of the shape was good, but the edges were still too sharp and the whole of it too blunt and stone age shaped.

    Second step: using the flow as rails for a loft seemed to me a reasonable idea. By adding a number of ellipses following the rails, each with it’s own dimensions, resulted in a model which could be very easily fine tuned.  It looked so much better.

    A quick check by printing it as a vase model  resulted in a little set-back. The shape was really nice, but the overall dimensions were just a bit too small. So I had to scale it up, the  only way.

    A second check was much more satisfying. The shape and sizes were now ok.

    Because I wished to make a separate  kinect clamp with spring loaded clamp fingers and with a tripod screw socket, I had to ad a tripod screw to the hand grip. A lot of Chinese web shops sell these for a few dimes, no problem. Splitting the upper halve of the grip was actually also a easy peasy slice of cake, no brain pain.

    The bottom plate of the kinect has four centre holes with a conical shape. They are quite small. So it’s very hard to measure their depth and to find all the dimensions. A good solution to this was filling it with a soft kit, acrylic kit in this particular case,  and then let it hard out. In this way one can make a good imprint of the shape of those holes.

    First I made a nut with ¼” -20 UNC  threat. But this did not work out well with the screw on my tripod. Either the tripod screw is too short or the nut lays too deep in the clamp. (never mind the bollocks, feel yours). Anyway, I had to replace it with something else. So that is why I ended up with the reworked knurled nut. Not the most easy solution, but hey it works quiet good.

    Testing the handgrip, I quickly found out it was a bit out of balance: the kinect can be quiet a weight. So I measured the mass, measured the approximate fulcrum point (between thumb and index finger) and then calculated the size of a contraweight. For this I used north sea dune sand because we have a awfull lot of it around here. I sieved it with a kitchen sieve to get rid of all the crunchy pieces.

    By hollowing out the grip, adding a spiral wound groove with a trap on the end I succeeded in combining the contra weight in the whole assembly. Still one more lesson to go. the weight wouldn’t stay within it’s trap if one moved it a bit to fast up and down. It came tumbling out, cracked open and spilled all the sand on the carppet * hrmpfff! Grumbles! *.  So that’s why I had to add the spring: to fixate it in it’s place within the handgrip.

    But on the whole, I think it is a very reasonable design.

    stl's can be found here: https://www.thingiverse.com/thing:2529475

    I also wrote a Instructables on how to assemble the whole thing together: http://www.instructables.com/id/How-to-Assemble-the-Kinect-Grip-of-CatweazleMagic/

    Enjoy, CatweazleMagic

    Little note for visitors who are not aquainted with the dutch language: If you are  interested in my art, please click on the union jack in the upper left corner, or follow thins link.



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  • Criminal activities in my garden.

    20 december 2016

    So I moved, to another town, another place. Much more quiet I think. Although I do miss the  hooting of the male Tawny Owl (Strix Aluco) in the autumn. And also the females of this little owl who were always screeching from pure joy in the large Poplar behind  my apartment.

    I will also miss the shrill laughter of the Green Woodpecker (Picus Viridis). A very special sound I think.

    White Stork

    The White Storks (CiconiaCiconia) on the other hand were a bit boring into my opinion. They are large and once they were rare, because they were extinct. But not anymore since one guy started a very successful breeding program.Nowadays they are almost a pest.

    Canadeze ganzen
























    Almost as much as the Canada Goose (Branta canadensis).

    But when I came to live here, I wondered:” Why all the police camera’s in the street? What are they staring at?”Very soon I would find out.

    First it was this little black feathered guy who took a few beaks full out my hanging basket.

    Two months later, I were just having my tea in the morning, I took a look out of my window into my garden and saw a little band of House Sparrows (Passer Domesticus) with youngsters. “ Nice !” I thought. But then the scene quickly changed.   A few minutes later a Eurasian Jay (Garrulus Glandarius) perched in my backyard. I did not think too much of it, not being aware of its utter fierceness.

    Eurasian Jay with prey

    Two minutes later it was back, and settled itself on a pole of the mouldering fence with in its beak a young sparrow, fighting for its live and air to breath. Not for long though, his life was quick gone, back to its creator.

    One moment I thought:” Should I do anything?” But the next moment it was already not necessary anymore. On the other hand; if all young sparrows were to be saved, we quickly would end up with much to much sparrows starving a horrible death.

    Eurasian Jay eating prey

    After all life was gone, the Jay started to rip apart the corps. The Serengeti was transported to my backyard, without due notice.

    Eurasian Jay ripping Prey

    The only thing missing was the reassuring voice of sir David Attenborough.


    In the end of October a few spotted and quick feathered  villains inspected my vines. They chirped their pleasure loud and clear.

    The gathering

    Soon a whole pack gathered on the roof beyond.

    the attack

    And then at once started their raid.

    a mouth full

    Each one grabbing a few grapes and then Rhhuuf. Rhhuf, rhuff, off they went. Within 30 seconds they had gathered a mouth full and were gone already. This repeated itself many times until no grape was left.

    Fat wood pigeons

    The job was finnished off by sending in the fat wood pigeons.


    Unfortunately  that was not the end of all the malicious terror. There was more to come and fear. One morning a masked little bandit explored my yard. First it climbed a few walls explored the grapeless vines, not much though.

    Koolmees Zonnebloem

    I thought I had a good stack of sunflower  seeds.

    Pimpelmees zonnebloem

    Until this robber and his friend found out.


    After that my funds at the sunflower bank were raided time by time. Leaving me only the empty seed caps. Quick as water they are.

    This all happend in a backyard of 20 sqare meters (sqr.65ft 7.4").

    Little note for visitors who are not aquainted with the dutch language: If you are  interested in my art, please click on the union jack in the upper left corner, or follow this link.









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  • What are YOU looking at?

    20 november 2016

    Ekster op balkon

    One lazy Sunday afternoon, not so long ago I were sitting at my table, when I suddenly noticed a magpie rumbling around in one of my hanging baskets on the balcony. I were wondering what she was looking for? Especially because I didn’t know magpies had a taste for Monks Cress (Tropaeolum majus).


    Taking a closer look I first only noticed a wealth of Black bean aphid (Aphis fabae). This is not very  strange for these little creatures just love Monks Cress and as thus this plant serves as a trap crop for these creepy crawlers.

    Still, the black ants had not discovered them at that moment, or there would have been a constant transport road of black ants from and too the aphids. They are great milk cows, those aphids. Well, at least to ants.

    Rups Grote Witte

    One moment later I saw why my monks cress lacked a few leaves; they were eaten by the caterpillar of the large white (Pieris brassicae). Somehow this caterpillar or butterfly in the making fancies a spicy meal; it already had munched away a few leaves.

    Kleine groene sabelsprinkhaan

    One leave further on, I spotted a small green katydid (Tettigonia cantans), who had had also a mouth full of my plant. Unlike the caterpillar he made  a rather tasty impression on to me. So I guess a magpie would also like to take snap on him.

    Grote Grijze Aardslak

    I now got the hang of turning leaves. So I rummaged a bit more through my plant with another tiny surprise; a very young great grey slug (Limax maximus). This one not only being very small, they can reach lengths of 20 cm (7 7/8“),...

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  • I am Back again

    28 september 2016

    I’m back again!

    Stairs to Cellar

    I made a wonderfull trip, that’s to be said. I spent a few more years than expected, on this little trip in the kingdom of knowledge and learning. But then again, it was worth every drop of sweat.I climbed mountains of shear math, swam  the rivers of code, rested on the shores of the seas of algebra.

    I were astonished at the complexity of the city of human relationships; so many meandering streets, unexpected  Kasbah’s, markets, little shrines. A place to never ever leave one would think. But ala, the road goes on.

    The mountains of culture were really humorous; most of them were collapsing spirals. Almost all of them were very eroding from within. Time has every day a mouthful of them and none of them will be spared.

    But as always, one day the trip ended on the porch with the letters ”HOME” written on it. Back to business as usual.

    Kelder spaghettifabriek Overzicht


    In my absence some fungi had a little taste of some of my hammer stems; bastards. They actually consumed a little bit more; the old door to the cellar, my workbench, the carton tubes of my welding rods. Almost everything they could get their little mycological threads on to. My, this seemed a bit worrisome to me.

    Door Cellar

    Another little nasty detail was to be found in the vaulted ceiling. As this was probably constructed around AD 1854, it was not of the best quality one might find. So it had actually led through a whole lot of water.  Most of this water also seeped away through the floor. So I did not have to swim to my workbench. That was a lucky thing. But a whole lot of my tools were just slightly a bit rusty. Cynics would reply:”What would you expect when you are away for about ten years!”

    Work Bench

    Well, maybe they are right in a sense.  Still it is not really nice.

    Another  misfortune was to be found in the ongoing progress of the city of Maastricht. For about 50 years the old spaghetti factory of the Bauduin family had resisted the urge of the Maastricht council to build a whole lot of new condoms.

    For years the old masters of the manner, two brothers, had just laughed away all the property developers with their big plans, arms wide spread, eyes on the horizon and money in their minds.

    But first the small one of the two brothers left to hunt on the endless bowl of pasta. Leaving his bigger brother with a devilish grin on his mouth and the aura of victory above his head. Not for long though, he lived a few more years and then found his bike parked on the other side.

    In the mean time one of their sons had taken over command of the ship, making money out of every litle corner the inheritance gave him. But he also grew old and weary. One day he bent over in the furious storm the city council invoked over him and sold the grounds. 

    So I had to leave. That was it then. An era came to an end.

    But I found a new place. Well hidden, just behind the shoreline and dunes of Holland. Hopefully the rise of the sea will not be too quick, because I hate it to get my feet wet in winter time.

    Little note for visitors who are not aquainted with the dutch language: If you are  interested in my art, please click on the union jack in the upper left corner, or follow this link.

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